Private Moments
by PaperPrince
Summary: Some random drabbles to do with my Scent series. (Omega Sherlock/Alpha John). (Part 3 of my scent series)
1. Nursery

Note this chapter is set after Hamish has started nursery but before the twins.

* * *

"John, promise me you won't go pick up the Hayes from nursery?"

John pauses in the midst of unpacking the recently bought shopping. He looks at Sherlock confused. "Are you suggesting that we leave him there then?"

"No of course not, I'll collect him from now on so you don't have to." Sherlock replies explaining himself without really saying anything at all.

"Why?" John asks his confusion clear. "Did something happen?"

"No." Sherlock says a lie beginning to form on his tongue before catching sight of John's knowing look. Sherlock sighs. "It has recently come to my attention that the other parents doing the school run are obsessed with some beautiful "Yummy Mummy" or "MILF" or whatever. It's utterly ridiculous and…"

He stops mid-sentence as John begins to giggle.

Sherlock crosses his arms. "It's not funny. Apparently he's aloof and gorgeous."

John drops the box of tea currently in his hands on the table and slides over to Sherlock wrapping his arms around that familiar lanky torso.  
"Idiot. They're all lusting over you." John tells him nibbling on Sherlock's neck. "Hamish's teacher told me. Said I should keep an eye on you, in case you got bored."

"Of you? Now whose being stupid?" Interrupts Sherlock before kissing him soundly.


	2. Thanks

Note set after Sherlock's second heat with John.

* * *

"John thinks I should thank you for looking after Hamish, though I think congratulations are in order instead, given that you managed to find him in the end. It was just the one time you lost him wasn't it? Yes, well I did tell you he could escape that make of play pen." He sighs as Mycroft starts to bumble his apology.

"Stop, don't tell me you found him fast asleep, curled up in his toy chest with his teddy after an hour or so of searching. All in all it must have been an interesting weekend for you" Sherlock says, picking up Hamish while John gets his bags.

Ignoring his own discomfort he glances past Mycroft and adds "I hope Anthea isn't too shaken." Sherlock says the last bit quietly but sincerely. It would be annoying if she refused to babysit again because of one minor incident. Their flat was only 20 minutes away after all.


	3. Birthday

"THIS IS THE POLICE! OPEN YOUR DOOR NOW!"

"Not with that attitude! Piss off!" Sherlock replies far too busy setting up for pin the tail on the donkey to bother with the yard's silly games. It is isn't until much later, when they are trying to get several slightly traumatized children to sleep that Sherlock concedes that this may not have been the most appropriate answer.

In fairness though how was he to know they were being treated to an impromptu drugs raid and not a surprise organized by Greg? It wasn't his fault someone at the yard had earlier overheard and completely misunderstood what was frankly a personal call;

"Hey how's the party shaping up?" Sherlock inquires smiling slightly at the caller id.

"Good, listen could you grab some pop from the supermarket for the kids?" John asks sounding slightly stressed.

"You want me to pick up some coke?"

"Yes um could you also get some money out for the animal tamer? I forgot to pay her."

"Sure, £200 is enough for tonight right?"

Of course it was particularly unfortunate that only his part of the conversation was overheard by a rather ambitious new member of the drug squad who had promptly organized a raid interrupting what had been a fairly successful birthday party.


	4. Pirates?

"Why on earth are you wearing an eye patch?" Mycroft inquires staring at his younger brother and trying to determine if he had finally lost the last of his sanity.

Sherlock glares at him using his one good eye and adjusts the baby resting on his hip.

"I'd rather not talk about it." He says just as Mycroft reaches forward to touch it. Mycroft's hand stills inches from Sherlock's face and falls back to his side.

"Why are you here anyway?" He asks clearly trying to change the subject.

Mycroft looks at Sherlock uncertainly. "May I come in for a moment?" He requests his umbrella twirling slightly in his hands.

Sherlock nods and allows Mycroft into the apartment. They head to the living room where Sherlock's little monsters are busy playing dress up.

"Well?" Sherlock asks rocking the curly haired baby on his lap.

"I have a case for you, one of national importance that is if you are feeling up to it." He adds his eyes lingering concernedly on the patch. "How is John by the way?"

"Fine, we're all fine." Sherlock declares, resisting the urge to sigh and put his head in his hands. Mycroft is always ready to think the worst of people.

"Good" Mycroft replies, his voice full of disbelief.

Sherlock's been dying for a proper case in ages and well, knowing Mycroft he won't get it if he thinks anything untoward is going on.

Sherlock briefly flips his eye patch up to reveal a red eye. "If you must know I got this through certain 'activities' with John."

Somehow that doesn't seem to reassure for Mycroft at all.

"Look if you must know I accidentally got S.P.E.R.M. in my eye, hardly life threatening." He says spelling the word out in the hope that his cubs wont understand.

Mycroft gags on his tea.

"Now what is the case about?"


	5. Home

_Not quite porn for Valentines, which was ages ago I know._  
_John has been in the army for a little while._

* * *

He's a week or so late, with only petrol station chocolates and a lacklustre bouquet as apology but given that he's supposed to be in the middle of a war right now protecting kin and country, it is still a pretty impressive surprise never the less. John tucks the box of chocolates under his arm and heads towards the glow coming from the living room.

As he opens the door, he is hit with the overwhelming smell of home. Sherlock's scent, while dulled by medication is enough to make him harden. Sherlock hasn't had any time to prepare, isn't wearing anything particularly special but even so to John after month's away, skinny jeans on that slender frame is a most welcome sight.

Evidently Sherlock feels somewhat similarly about his jetlagged Alpha for he abandons his current project, an otter costume for Hamish's upcoming school production without hesitation. His body finds John's before he is even aware of moving.

Sherlock eagerly greets John with a smouldering kiss and John instantly knows how much he has been missed. And in no time at all the presents are forgotten.

Urgent, desperate, need encourages their move into the bedroom.

John begins to undresses him, delighting in the familiar sight of pale skin on top of mattress.

Sherlock rolls over, flipping their positions in order to undo his jeans more easily. John gazes up at him savouring the sight.

It's then John notices something a little off.

"What happened to your underwear?" John asks curiosity trumping the lust filling his brain, as he tugs Sherlock's jeans further down his legs. A giggle escapes his lips as he stares at Sherlock's unusual underwear.

Sherlock blinks at him confusedly. The pants he was wearing weren't new or particularly special, just plain white and boring. He looks down and sees what he hadn't this morning as he hurriedly prepared for the school run.

"It appears that someone has drawn a bumble bee on them. Amelia, I think judging by the style" Sherlock says a small frown forming on his oh so kissable lips. John runs his thumb gently across the tightly starched fabric.

"Hmmm maybe she'll be an artist someday." He teases.

Sherlock gasps and shudders at the simple caress which is more affection than his prick has had from John in far too long. "Can we get back to more important matters now? Such as having you in me right now."

"God, yes." John replies, nipping at his neck.


	6. Family

Home.

It is both his castle and the place where his heart resides. Home is his refuge. Most importantly it is his treasure box, in which his precious jewels reside.

John loves coming home nearly as much as he hates leaving.

John loves being smothered by Sherlock's eager kisses on the doorstop of 221B and being greeted by little smiling faces with sticky hands.

He loves coming home to find homemade casseroles and stews waiting for him (even if they are mostly courtesy of his mother in law) and discovering that Sherlock has turned the living room into a giant blanket fort.

John even loves finding paint splattered all over the walls or that Sherlock has blown up marshmallows in the microwave for science.

John is only somewhat surprised then to return one rainy afternoon to find Sherlock and their little army of darling monsters lying curled up on the floor in a nest of pillows and blankets quietly watching one of the home movies Siger is so terribly fond of making.

A much younger Sherlock and John flicker across the TV screen. John recognises the footage, taken the summer before they bonded. In the footage Sherlock sits on the handle bars of john's bike as they spin around the park laughing like hyenas.

A smile floods John's face. "I must have been blind not to see it" he thinks dropping his bag by the doorway and making his way over to his pack.


End file.
